


Love in the Afternoon

by nekotachis



Series: Dimivain Weekend 2020 [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dimivain Anniversary Weekend 2020, Fluff, Food, Handfeeding, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28049415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekotachis/pseuds/nekotachis
Summary: "Blue flax crunched under foot as they dodged them, black-eyed susans knocking together with the brush of their bodies. Sylvain had been here before with lots of different women, picking flowers and kissing languidly as a teenager, but he had yet to be here with someone he loved. They were quiet as they walked, Sylvain determined to reach his destination."Sylvain and Dimitri go on a picnic.Day 3 of Dimivain Anniversary Weekend 2020 for the prompt "Fluff"
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: Dimivain Weekend 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2051511
Comments: 11
Kudos: 38





	Love in the Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> Keep an eye out for artwork by [Sparrow](https://twitter.com/delinquent)!

Wildflowers in a rainbow of colors swayed in the breeze, the tall grass lapping against their legs as they made their way over to a flat clearing. The sky was as blue as Dimitri’s remaining eye, bright and boundless. Sylvain was thankful for the mild weather. He wasn’t sure he would be able to tolerate the heat, especially with no shade.

Blue flax crunched under foot as they dodged them, black-eyed susans knocking together with the brush of their bodies. Sylvain had been here before with lots of different women, picking flowers and kissing languidly as a teenager, but he had yet to be here with someone he loved. They were quiet as they walked, Sylvain determined to reach his destination. 

The sun felt more intense at the clearing, the grass warm and dry. Sylvain spread the blanket out, something simple and old he snagged from the stables. He turned to tell Dimitri to put the basket down, but his words caught in his throat. Dimitri’s hair was messed from the gentle breeze, shiny and golden under the late morning sun. He looked happy, genuinely happy, and Sylvain smiled back at him. 

“Let's put the basket down and get started before one of us starts to burn.” Sylvain said, sitting down on the blanket as Dimitri followed.

“It’s so peaceful out here, how did you ever find such a place?” Dimitri said. He sounded breathless, more from awe than exertion. 

Sylvain huffed a short laugh while he dug into the basket. “I went for a walk one day and ended up here. Just left where I was and went in one direction and didn’t stop. When I’m here, nobody knows who I am. Time stops.”

Dimitri hummed in response, his eye scanning the horizon. It certainly seemed boundless, like looking out at the ocean. 

“C’mon, let me show you what I got for us.”

Packed snugly inside their bundle was a thermos with cold iced tea, fresh raspberries and a single plump peach, soft, runny cheese and crusty bread. A jar of homemade orange marmalade - open, someone had stolen a taste - was snuck in, too, right next to a paper package of madeleines and shiny meringues for dessert. 

Sylvain had taken it all out, placed it haphazardly between them. As he pulled out the last objects - two clay mugs - he beamed. Never in his life had he put so much effort into pleasing someone else, and his heart trembled with the understanding that he did this because he wanted to, not because of fear of abandonment of inadequacy. There was not much left to hide with his childhood friend-now-partner. 

Nonetheless, Sylvain had desperately wanted to spoil him, pull Dimitri away from his endless piles of papers and civic duties. 

“Well? I think I did a pretty good job. I tried to get different textures, since I know you can’t really taste.” 

Dimitri’s smile was small, a well of emotion flashing in his eye, and he rubbed his hand against Sylvain’s thigh. “This is all very kind of you, my dear. You didn’t have to.”

“And pass up spoiling a handsome guy like you? Never.” Sylvain said, squeezing Dimitri’s fingers before pouring tea for the both of them. 

They sat in silence as Sylvain doled out the snacks. Dimitri watched, transfixed with adoration, and Sylvain preened. If he knew it would be this easy wooing Dimitri, he would have tried it ages ago. Sylvain cut through the peach to make sections with his pocket knife, the blade slicing through the flesh like butter, the skin splitting and peeling. The orange, fleshy inside peeked out, and a rivulet of juice dripped down, pooling into the crevices of his palm. 

“That looks delicious. It’s so ripe.” Dimitri broke the silence. Their voices felt dampened with so much space. Sylvain stopped mid slice, looking back up. Something in Dimitri’s face read “hunger”, but not the kind that required food to satisfy.

“Hmm?”

“The peach. It looks good. It’s dripping.”

Sylvain cocked his eyebrow at such a suggestive word, smirking. “Do you want a piece?” 

Dimitri swallowed, licking his lips. He was enrapt, leaning forward with his head resting on his clasped hands. Sylvain was starting to think he was going to become the meal if he didn’t do something about it. 

“No, thank you. You should have it, though.” 

“You want me to eat it for you?” Sylvain laughed. What a strange request, he thought, as he went back to cutting, the fuzzy skin peeling away effortlessly. The juice pooled and dribbled down Sylvain’s wrist. 

“I think I would.” 

Sylvain’s smile grew, toothy and dangerous. He didn’t take Dimitri for the indulgent type, but out here amongst the flowers and the empty sky, who couldn’t indulge? Dimitri’s cheeks blushed pink as Sylvain pulled the wedge of peach away from the pit and slid it into his mouth. Juice dribbled over, and he caught it with his finger, pushing it back in. He darted his tongue out, sucking the juice off his palm. The peach was fragrant and ripe, pregnant with nectar. 

“How does it taste?” Dimitri whispered, and Sylvain caught a hint of sadness in it.

Sylvain sucked at his fingers loudly, thinking. “Like your ass after a nice soak.”

“Sylvain!” 

Cackling, Sylvain snagged a napkin, wiping the juice off his chin. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it!” 

Dimitri plucked a raspberry, popping it into his mouth. Sylvain loved teasing him, Dimitri should know better.

“Fine, fine. Umm...it’s...floral. Like the fat peaches Ingrid’s family used to bring to us as kids that came over the border. Sweet and syrupy. They just kind of melt in your mouth, you know?” 

Dimitri was looking beyond Sylvain, listening. Sylvain wondered what the last thing Dimitri ever tasted - was it the birthday cake on Dimitri’s 13th birthday, sweet and speckled with sugar? The wine at King Lambert’s funeral, acerbic, flowing liberally for the mourners? Did Dimitri taste the sour breath of his first kiss? Will he taste the lips of his lover for his last kiss?

Sylvain felt the sorrow bubble up, and he reached out to brush a strand of Dimitri’s hair behind his ear. Dimitri grinned back, a dollop of soft cheese on his finger.

“I want to try this next.” 

“You mean you want _me_ to try it.” 

“You try it, and tell me. Like before.”

The finger prodded past Sylvain’s teeth, and he let it slip in. The cheese melted immediately in the heat of his mouth, and he bit down to scrape it off as Dimitri pulled out. It turned to cream on Sylvain’s tongue as he rolled it around, examining it. Dimitri waited, leaning against Sylvain’s shoulder.

“Wow, this is good stuff...wonder what kitchen I stole it from…” It coated his mouth as he tried to swallow. “It’s earthy. It’s not sharp at all, not like that hard stuff. It’s like they took the top off of fresh milk, it just melts with a hint of bitterness.” 

Dimitri sighed against him, his chest rising and falling and pushing against Sylvain. Peeking over, Dimitri’s eye was closed. He looked deep in thought.

“I miss cheese.” Dimitri said.

“I know you do. You love cheese.” Sylvain laughed. 

“I love cheese.”

“I love you.” Sylvain threw his arm around him, pulling Dimitri close to kiss the top of his head. His hair was warmed from the sun, and Sylvain let himself linger for just a bit. One day Sylvain hoped they could enjoy the food together. For now, he’d take every moment he could get.

“Anything else you want to try today?” 

Dimitri considered his option as if his life depended on it. At first, he picked up the meringues, but they crumbled to dust when he tried to break a bit off. Sylvain could see Dimitri thinking how to feed him some of the tea, but was thankful when Dimitri turned away. Tea down the front of your shirt was a bad look.

Dimitri picked up the jar of marmalade last, assessing the heft and examining it. The sun shone through the orange jam, bits of rind suspended. 

“That was _really_ good, I think Mercedes made some and left it for us.” 

The lid pried off with a pop, and Dimitri peered inside. 

“It smells delightful.” Dimitri said.

“Here, I have an idea.” Sylvain said, snatching the jar from Dimitri. He dipped his fingers in deep, pulling out with a hefty glob of marmalade. Without warning, Sylvain smeared it across Dimitri’s mouth, laughing as his face scrunched up in surprise. Dimitri sputtered, his pink tongue darting out to lick it up as he scrambled to catch stray globs with his fingers. 

“So, how’s it feel?” Sylvain said with a satisfied grin.

“Feel?” Dimitri was sucking the rest of the jam off of his fingers, trying to clean the sticky syrup off before dirt stuck to it. “It feels like you shoved jam on my face.” 

Scoffing, Sylvain dipped a napkin in tea before shoving it into Dimitri’s hands. “So I have to do all the dirty work on the fly and you can just tell me it feels like jam?”

“Sylvain.” Dimitri said quietly. He was blushing again, the soft peachy pink of his cheeks contrasting against the backdrop of vivid green grass and swaying wildflowers. Sylvain recalls a painting he saw somewhere, at some time, of a similar scene - a blonde maiden amongst the fields, daisies the size of dots on the canvas snuggled up against her stretched legs, goldenrods tall and proud painted as simple lines in the distance. Sylvain recalled how it reminded him of this place, and he remembers with a hint of shame how he thought about the next pretty girl who he’d lead there.

Amongst the grass and flowers and sky on an old horse blanket, Dimitri smiling and licking jam off his chin was better than that old, stuffy painting. It was better than any painting that would ever exist of the king, ever. Sylvain was sure of it; one day Sylvain would look up at another royal portrait of Dimitri and remember that no human could possibly capture the king as beautiful as he was today.

“Sylvain.” Dimitri was louder to get Sylvain’s attention, “I have a better idea.”

Dimitri’s hand slid around Sylvain’s neck, pulling him close. His fingers caught on Sylvain’s hair at his nape, the sticky residue tangling up in it. Grinning, Sylvain leaned forward to meet him, their lips touching and lingering before both of them pulled back ever so slightly.

“Can you tell me how it is?” Dimitri’s voice was low and deep, and Sylvain shivered.

“I don’t know, can you give me another taste?”

Their next kiss was heavier, slow and syrupy like molasses. Dimitri held him close, his grip possessive on the back of Sylvain’s neck. When Dimitri breathed in, Sylvain chased after his open mouth, his tongue licking across Dimitri’s lips before darting inside. His lips were smooth and sweet, and Dimitri sucked gently on Sylvain’s tongue. Sylvain’s body burned, hungry and choking on the rush of unbridled lust that swelled like ripe, summer fruit. The food was good; Dimitri was a better meal. 

Dimitri pushed forward, tipping Sylvain backwards off the blanket. The grass crunched beneath him sending up a wave of pollen as Dimitri followed, laying himself on top. It was hot between them, the sun at its peak blazing down on Dimitri’s back. Tangling his fingers through Dimitri’s hair, Sylvain made a small noise in his throat as they kissed. Like this, Dimitri could give, could feed, and Sylvain could take and take and take. 

And the marmalade. The marmalade melted long ago in Dimitri’s mouth, but the taste lingered, sweet as candy with a bit of tartness. Their faces were slippery, their saliva drying to sticky, sugary splotches. 

When Dimitri pulled away, the sun framed his head in a golden halo, his hair hanging down in sheets to frame his face in shadow. 

“So?” Dimitri whispered. Even the birds couldn’t hear him.

“It’s…” Sylvain started, but stopped to catch his breath. He didn’t take Dimitri as the ravishing type, but he wasn’t so bad at it. “You’re…”

A gust of warm wind blew between them, bringing with it the sweet, humid smell of a hot summer. Sylvain took in a deep breath, letting it fill his lungs.

“I think I need another taste.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/nekotachis)


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